Call Me Honey
by Buddhacide
Summary: Elsa has renounced the throne of Arendelle and assumed her true identity as the Snow Queen. Dwelling among the Northuldra tribespeople, she settles down one night by the campfire to share a heart-to-heart with a certain someone who wants her to call her by something special. Oneshot; Elsa x Honeymaren.


**CALL ME HONEY**

_A Frozen 2 oneshot_

_Elsa x Honeymaren (you knew it was coming!)_

* * *

"_One may easily part those who are never joined. But when they cross, even the gods can't put an inch between them." - Anonymous Arendellian poet_

* * *

It had been some weeks since Elsa had arrived back at the shores of Northuldra. Every Friday the tribespeople would gather up more wood than usual for an evening of song and dance, a tradition that had restarted since the enchanted fog was lifted from the woodlands. Elsa, now a fellow resident among the tribe, did her share of the work, although it pained some people's hearts to see her working unnecessarily hard – specifically, Honeymaren's heart, who couldn't stand to see Elsa in her gossamer, fae-like outfit carrying two blocks of chopped wood in her arms.

"Let me do that! Take it easy," she cried, motioning for Elsa to give her the load. She gestured around them – the fires around them were being lit, and children and families were gathering around them, laughing and talking. "We're almost done anyway. See? Even the moon is out."

Elsa looked at Honeymaren sheepishly. "I've seen you carrying three small logs in one go, while I'm just carrying two blocks. One day I hope to be of more use."

"Don't say that," insisted Honeymaren, lifting the wood from Elsa's arms. She took them to one of the unoccupied campfires as singing began to lilter in the air. She threw them into the miniature pyre as Elsa sat down and patted the patch of grass and dirt beside her.

"Come, Honeymaren," sang the former queen of Arendelle-turned-Snow Queen. "Please stay with me."

Honeymaren's grin was so wide that she felt it strain her cheeks. She plonked herself down, sidling closer to Elsa. They stared at the fire for several minutes in silence as their bodies settled down, their heartbeats and breathing in rhythm with the gentle crackling.

"I'm so glad you like it here," murmured Honeymaren.

"This is where I belong… if you and the tribe will have me," said Elsa, twirling a loose strand of pale gold hair with a slender finger.

"Uh, totally. Although – " and Honeymaren suddenly felt a twinge of insecurity. " – even though the fog has lifted, beyond here are vast plains, as you know, and many days' worth of journeying across the wilderness until Arendelle is in sight. I mean, you're a spirit and all, so you probably don't think about it anymore, but… Arendelle is a big town. With lots to do and see. As beautiful as our woodlands are… " She looked down. "It's pretty quiet around here."

"Hustle and bustle is overrated," replied Elsa. "Besides, Anna was always the more cosmopolitan sister. That's why I passed on my crown to her. She made the right choice in destroying our grandfather's dam, and has demonstrated her fitness to administer the kingdom. She's also more social than I am, so she'll be able to be a political animal without losing her moral compass."

"How is she doing?" asked Honeymaren.

"I don't know the minutiae," admitted Elsa, "but she and I both agree that the kingdom will need a stronger political foundation than the one my grandfather had built, which was based on deception and oppression. He deceived and attacked your tribe thirty-four years ago." Elsa turned to look at Honeymaren, blue eyes mournful. "He attacked, in a sense, his own family. After all, our mother's heritage means that Anna and I will forever be bound to Northuldra. I promise you that Anna will govern our kingdom as if it were an extension of this place. We owe it to our parents. Anna will make the right moves, with Kristof's help."

"I'm sorry," said Honeymaren, her chestnut eyes shining. "It must be painful to renounce your grandpa like that."

Elsa shook her head. "I want to confess something," she said sadly. "My parents – including my mother – weren't perfect either. When I was just a child and frightened beyond belief at my new powers of ice, even… even mother locked me up in my room for years on end. I lost my childhood because my parents didn't initially understand how my powers and their first meeting in Northuldra were connected." Elsa stared at the dancing flames in front of them. "Well, they eventually did try to find out… and were drowned."

Honeymaren instinctively put her hand on Elsa's. "By the wind, I'm so sorry. I… I didn't mean for you to recall these horrible memories," she said, horrified and slightly sick at the direction of the conversation.

"As time passes, I will share more of my trauma with you. But not tonight, dear Honeymaren. Tonight, we speak of things lightly." Elsa closed her eyes. "Speaking of city life, Arendelle is moving into an exciting new age with advancing technology like steam and photography."

Honeymaren's gaze was blank. "Haven't even heard of those words."

Elsa raised her hand and reached for her companion's ponytail. Honeymaren blushed as she felt Elsa innocently stroking her hair. "The photography thing is the most amazing. You just stand still, and then they produce a likeness unlike even the best paintings. And everyone can buy a camera or hire a professional to take your picture. Maybe we should do one for ourselves next time we visit the palace."

Honeymaren grinned. "I'd love that. And you'd take me to the palace in Arendelle?" she asked in slight shock.

Elsa beamed. "Would you like to see where I grew up?"

"Oh, I so would," said Honeymaren excitedly.

"Then that's settled," confirmed Elsa happily, particles of ice dancing in her open palms.

Honeymaren looked up at the glimmering stars, breathing in and out in satisfaction. The stars never lost their lustrous wonder, especially after so many decades of her tribe having been blocked from glimpsing them. As she took in the crisp night air, she felt a sudden welling of intense gratitude in her chest. She was here in the Northuldran forest, warmed by homely campfire and in the presence of her loving friends and family. And yes, Elsa was here. Elsa, element spirit of snow. It felt so freeing and warm that it almost hurt.

Tonight was a damn good night.

"Oh, Elsa," she whispered involuntarily, before her heart sank in embarrassment. She hadn't intended to say it aloud. _Why did I say it aloud_? she thought in horror.

"Yes, Honeymaren?" asked Elsa, smiling in curiosity. She shuffled closer, their legs touching.

"Oh. Oh, nothing." Honeymaren chuckled nervously, scratching at her fur hat. "Nothing at all."

"Sorry, but now you've got me intrigued," prodded Elsa. She took hold of Honeymaren's arm, languidly stroking it. "You have my undivided attention. I want to talk, and talk, and talk with you until the sun comes up and you're cradling my sleepy body. So don't leave me hanging."

Honeymaren's blush intensified. "I just had a stupid and cheesy thought."

"Why berate yourself? Why not tell me and let me give you a response?"

"Because you'll think it's silly."

"In my experience, people who call themselves silly are really not that."

Honeymaren sighed. She couldn't escape. "I was just wondering…" _Ah, screw it_, she thought in abandon. "I wanted to ask you to call me by my nickname."

"And what's that?" asked Elsa, raising an elegant eyebrow.

"Honey," muttered Honeymaren, and as she thought, it sounded quite a bit less smart when uttering it aloud than in her head. Not to mention, of course, that it was a complete lie. No one called her Honey, she hated the prospect of people thinking about such a nickname, and she'd have twisted the arm of whoever thought they could get away with such a lame and creepy wordplay.

No, no, no – this was something different. For the blonde, ethereal woman before her.

"Well… of course I'd be happy to… Honey," said Elsa slowly and languidly, her lips mouthing the words like a delectable dessert. "Yes. Honey is a nickname that suits you, isn't it? Because you're so sweet and good to me. Yes, I'm drawn to you like a little bee. And you trap me in your presence with how kind and fascinating you are. So yes, you are like honey. Irresistible and sticky all over."

Honeymaren couldn't look at Elsa anymore, and could barely believe the great Snow Queen was toying with her and expressing intimate desire. She burned with embarrassment, feeling hotter than the campfire itself. _What have I done_? she wondered bleakly.

"Do you ask every new interloper in the tribe to call you 'honey?'" came Elsa's voice, and to Honeymaren's shock she sensed the slightest hint of possessiveness – nothing malicious, but instead vulnerable, even anxious.

"No, no, never," she cried, looking back up into Elsa's deep, angelic eyes. "I was making it up. I don't have such a corny nickname. I just…" She hugged herself, pulling her knees closer. "I want you to have an excuse to call me 'honey.'"

Elsa smiled, enfolding the Northuldran in her arms. Honeymaren felt herself going weak, her relaxing body melting in Elsa's cuddle.

Their gazes swam in each other, reflecting the moonlight in their irises.

"Was this all you wanted? An excuse?" whispered Elsa, breath far hotter than her element gave away.

"Yes," squeaked Honeymaren, her hands clutching Elsa's. "Because I'm terrible at this."

"Silly. I don't need an excuse to call you what I feel about you."

Elsa was right. There were also other things that didn't need excuses.

Like a loving kiss.

**THE END**


End file.
